~Amelia
The iciest of blues
It tumbles
Into the rippling lake
Of translucent silver,
Dotted
With metal cylinders
Opaque bottles and
Faded paper ribbons of colour.
They glide lazily
Through their liquid field
Drift silently
As the rain,
Thick with acid
Peppers invisibly
With pallid swirls.
Two plastics
Stray from the pack
Gain independence
Wash to the bank
Into ailing waters
Laced
With shy waves of indigo.
